


World Coming Down

by dancer4813



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cassandra always needs a hug, Mild canon divergence, Set during Episode 73 - "The Coming Storm", Spoilers for Episode 73 - "The Coming Storm", Tal'dorei Campaign, but especially after episode 73
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer4813/pseuds/dancer4813
Summary: Cassandra finds an unexpected companion when the stress of everything going on hits her at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Critical Role Reverse Bang, based on art by [summonerskies](http://i.imgur.com/ldKkMtP.png) on tumblr (shown at the end of the fic). Title from Matt's Critical Role soundtrack last year, as the track he chose for Cassandra back then is rather poignant now.

Cassandra looked out over the city of Whitestone, a mug of tea clutched in her hands as she stood atop the ramparts of the castle overlooking the valley. The sun was just peeking up over the Alabaster Sierras, the day still newly-born, and she could see the first villagers beginning to open windows and make their ways through the streets of the city below. It seemed like a perfectly normal day, and were it not for the sight of the destroyed nobles’ homes around the city in addition to the sparkling blue light from the barrier around the city, Cassandra could pretend she was eleven years old again, up at the crack of dawn with Vesper simply so she could see the sun rise over their home.

Her throat closed up suddenly, and Cassandra took another sip of her tea, closing her eyes tightly against the stinging that heralded oncoming tears.

It had been five years. It was time to move on.

Cassandra considered retreating back inside, where the cold wind couldn’t cut through her robe, but she took a deep breath and watched the sun’s rays creep across the city. The light slowly and steadily illuminated each edge of the city, the farmlands (still rich with crops even into midwinter, thanks to Keyleth’s blessing on the soil) reflecting golden light in the early morning glow. Cassandra remembered how Vesper had always waited until every bit of the kingdom was lit up before going down to breakfast, and she remembered how, as a eleven-year-old, she had disliked the long wait in the chilly air despite the lovely sight.

Cassandra waited on the parapet until the activity in the city picked up noticeably, the streets beginning to fill with mothers heading to the bakeries in town, getting fresh bread for the morning meal. Even the militia growing in Whitestone wasn’t up and about yet, as their training started later in the day than it usually would, giving any farmers wanting to learn a chance to tend to their properties before sparring with the others.

As she took another sip of tea, Cassandra wondered briefly if she would be able to fight with them when the time came. If her brother would allow her to join them for the final battle…

But no, there was a city she owed her allegiance to, one she had already forsaken due to misplaced allegiances and her desire to escape her own suffering.

She would not abandon Whitestone again.

Cassandra stood in silence for a few more seconds, feeling a new sort of warmth grow within her as the streets picked up in the level of traffic, still emptier than she remembered, but, then, the city was not as she remembered.

Not wanting to give up her moment of solitude, Cassandra took a deep breath, then another, letting the cool air rush down her throat before she drained her tea and returned to her room to prepare for the day.

Had she waited just a minute longer she would have seen the familiar sight of a portal opening out of the Sun Tree’s bark, and a small cluster of figures stepping through into the main town square.

\--

Cassandra stood in front of her closet, pulling her breeches up and lacing her boots, intending to check in on the progress of the militia’s training. She didn’t have much formal training herself, but she was certainly more experienced than some of the farm hands who were holding short swords for the first time in their lives. Jarret, who had been the head guard at Vox Machina’s keep in Emon, had seen her practicing on her own and invited her to join their sessions. She’d already been making a point to wander through the city, letting the general public know that she was there to help, and it took little away from her duties to join the men in their drills. Indeed, it was freeing to take the time to act instead of discuss and plan and talk about endless political matters.

A knock on the door drew Cassandra’s attention.

“Just a moment!” she called, pulling on a tunic over her undershirt and lacing it up with practiced strokes.

She walked up to the door and opened it to reveal Seeker Asum Emring, the small man dressed in his usual ranger garb, the scars on his face already more faded since last she’d seen him.

“Seeker,” she greeted, nodding her head slightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure, especially so early in the morning?”

 “Unfortunately good news and bad news,” he said with a slight sigh. “A meeting has been called in the War Room to discuss recent events that Vox Machina brings word of with their return from Wildmount. We must discuss the safety of the city, and how best to handle any potential attacks, especially with the risk Whitestone poses to the Conclave as a stronghold against them.”

“They have returned, then?” Cassandra asked, a bubble of relief swelling in her chest. There was no sign of worry or concern on Asum’s face, which hopefully meant her brother and his friends had come back safe and unharmed.

“They exited a portal in the Sun Tree not half an hour ago,” he confirmed. “They appear to be in good condition as well, so don’t fret.”

Cassandra felt a blush creep across her cheeks at her apparent transparency, but thanked Asum for the information.

“And when is this meeting to be held?”

“In a couple hours – and while most of the others will be joining us, Kashaw is still, well, indisposed, after his long trip to and from Vasselheim. Laina has informed me he returned only yesterday evening, and so we will leave him to his rest. Zahra is also indisposed, so she will be absent as well.”

“That sounds perfectly reasonable,” Cassandra said, nodding. “I will be sure to arrive promptly, Seeker.”

“Until then.”

“Until then.”

The door closed, and Cassandra sighed softly, already starting to untie the tunic she wore. While simple clothes were adequate for walking out in the city, a meeting about their plans, with her as the current Lady of Whitestone, demanded a slightly higher level of decorum.

She dressed down, returning her tunic to the shelf it had been folded on, and selected a dress that was warm, but short enough to wear over breeches, and that wouldn’t trip her up in an emergency.

If there was one thing she had learned from the last few weeks, it was to wear sensible clothing.

Cassandra dressed herself again, then let in her personal guard, Erin, to assist her with the buttons up the back of the dress. She then began to look through some notes on her desk – various letters and other documents that evaluated Whitestone’s resources. A few were records of previous council meetings, others were information she had gathered from Allura and Drake after their return from Westruun, a couple more were from Gilmore, consisting of what he could explain to her about the barrier around the city.

There was a quick knock on the door before it slid open, and Cassandra looked up to see who her guards had let in, only to see her brother standing at the door, looking healthy as he ever had, even a bit more color in his cheeks than usual. He looked well-rested, and generally doing much better than the last time she’d seen him.

Repressing a shudder at the thought of his frail form, Cassandra straightened up.

“Percival. Glad you have arrived, and still in one piece.”

He chuckled, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“Yes. And down one dragon.”

He laughed again, as if he could hardly believe it, and Cassandra blinked twice before answering, not sure how to respond to that. Her brother, and the rest of Vox Machina, they spoke of killing dragons as if they were rats that needed to be chased out of the kitchens. She was not sure she would ever get used to it.

“I, I have to tell you – I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you,” he said with a nod, clasping his hands together as he did when he was thinking. “Two more to go. It’s… going to get a little heavier at this point.”

Cassandra had a strong urge to tell Percy she was perfectly capable of counting how many dragons remained, but held off.

“Indeed, that’s largely what our meeting is about.”

“Two more to go,” he repeated. “And I fear it is possible that Whitestone itself may eventually be the target of an attack. I feel it may be inevitable.”

Cassandra sighed, wondering why her brother seemed so absent-minded as of late. “That is, actually, what our meeting is about – to prevent that from happening.”

Her brother considered her for a moment, then held out his hand, a small, folded piece of parchment revealed as he did so.

Raising an eyebrow, Cassandra took the paper and unfolded it, scanning the Elven script for a moment to take in the meaning.

_Be prepared for anything today. Keep silent._

A weight seemed to settle on her shoulders, though Cassandra stood tall and unmoving. What was her brother preparing for that he could not give a name to, even in writing? Had something happened in Wildmount to necessitate such secrecy?

She looked up and studied her brother intently for a moment, taking in his world-weary eyes and appreciating once again the fact that he was standing in front of her, alive and well, especially when he had been much less so only days earlier. Taking a breath, Cassandra folded up the paper and nodded.

“Very well,” she said, tucking the parchment away in a pocket and making a note to burn it as soon as she could. “Should be an interesting meeting, then.”

“I think so; I do think so,” Percy said, sighing momentarily as he straightened up the smallest fraction. He smiled, looking tired but determined, and seemed to take in her whole presence for a moment before nodding. “It’s good to see you taking command.”

Cassandra fought as hard as she could to keep her face neutral. He didn’t know the half of it. He’d hardly been in the city since Thordak had taken Emon, traipsing out with Vox Machina for days at a time, only coming back for a night, two at the most, to regroud. Percy hadn’t even stepped up, leaving her the sole keeper of their family’s city.

“It’s good to see you, and I look forward to… sharing some of the burden soon,” she hinted.

“Yes,” he said, his composure breaking as he smiled, a heat rising to his cheeks and ears.

Oh, to hells with keeping her composure.

“Right?” she pressed.

“Yes, quite possibly.”

 _Quite possibly_ was not enough for Cassandra.

“Right?” she asked again, staring her brother in the eye.

He chuckled as he did when he was nervous, and _gods above_ didn’t that feel like victory singing in her chest. It was reassuring that, despite the fact he was older, the willpower of a de Rolo Lady could not be entirely ignored

“We will discuss it once the dragons are taken care of.”

“Good.”

“We will discuss, at the very least, relieving you of some of this burden.”

“Good.”

It was already _much_ later than she had intended to discuss such matters, but sweet Pelor her time with the Briarwoods had made her nothing if not patient. And she prayed each night that the dragons would be done with soon, that they could return to a peaceful existence without a threat from above.

“I know it’s not fair-“

“Whether it’s fair is neither here nor there,” Cassandra interrupted, “The wonders of Lordship and Ladydom.”

Her brother laughed and reached forward to take hold of her hand, squeezing it for a moment before nodding again, bidding her farewell.

“See you in a few short hours, sister.”

“Until then, brother,” she said with the slightest nod of her head.

 She watched him leave, the door closing behind him, and waited for five long seconds before looking over to her personal guard. “Could you step outside for a moment, Erin?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erin agreed with a nod, exiting the room.

As the door closed, Cassandra lit a candle with a quick strike of some flint and metal, then burned the small note given to her by her brother, reducing it to naught but glowing wisps of embers, blowing out the flame as soon as the deed was done. She then took two daggers out of the false bottom on the middle drawer of her desk and attached them using leg holsters to a point on either thigh where they would be covered, even when seated, by her dress.

She had no idea what her brother was expecting to happen at a council meeting – a strategy meeting nonetheless – but she trusted him more than she trusted herself sometimes.

It also didn’t hurt to be prepared either way.

Cassandra then turned her back to her bed and collapsed on it, taking a deep breath before rolling over and yelling into her pillow so as to muffle the sound.

The action didn’t help the anxiety brewing in her stomach, but it helped take some of the weight off her chest and she sat up feeling marginally better, ready to eat a light breakfast before meeting the others in the War Room.

\--

Cassandra’s arms were folded across her chest to keep her shaking hands still.

She watched Vox Machina as they continued to talk with Allura, and slipped out while the archanist wrote out a note for them to bring to the head of Fort Daxio. Cassandra had nothing else to contribute to their strategy or plan regardless, and, to be perfectly honest, she could hardly stand being in their collectively indifferent presence any longer. Allura still looked shaken, Drake equally wary, but the rest of Vox Machina, even Gilmore, seemed relatively unfazed, after the fact, that her brother had attacked an apparent ally and revealed a _dragon_ in their midst.

It was supremely disconcerting, and Cassandra had no concrete way to help them prepare for whatever the hell they’d be doing next. She knew no one outside of Whitestone, had no connections, and what use was the slowly-growing militia going to be against two fully-grown dragons?

Cassandra made it up to the castle garden in a daze, using what she knew of the place from her childhood and her own ability to tread softly to avoid the servants and staff, even managing to duck past the guards who usually followed her everywhere.

The garden had changed since she was younger, the plants and shrubs that had once been full and green and neatly kept by gardeners were just starting to recover from the death the Briarwoods had brought to Whitestone with them. Small flower beds throughout the grounds were overgrown, but with weeds, and brown grasses and leaves covered the earth below, preventing new plants from growing.

Johanna de Rolo had always been proud of the gardens of Whitestone Castle while she lived. The gardens didn’t consist of huge lawns or vast hedges, nor fountains that were surrounded by thousands of perfectly-manicured flowers, but of small paths with scattered benches lined with flowers and trees that could withstand the cold winter weather on the northern edge of Tal’dorei. The gentle hill leading from the front gate to the castle proper was where Johanna had spent a large majority of her free time, and Cassandra remembered picking weeds alongside her mother when she was young, learning about the growth that could flourish through simple love and care.

It was a small cluster of berry bushes that Cassandra sought out as she exited the castle, easily remembered despite the changed landscape.

The fear in her chest, the uncertainty, the worry, blossomed as she walked out through the open space on the hill just outside the castle’s walls, but Cassandra stamped it down, intent on being alone in seclusion before she let herself fall apart.

Had she been younger, she would have run to her room and hid under her blankets, as if their warmth could grant her some protection.

Had she been Percy, she would have locked herself in her workshop and not come out until she had a plan.

An involuntary noise escaped her lungs, wrenched from her chest through sheer frustration and anger even as she came upon the place she was seeking, the bushes wilted and with a distinct lack of berries, but still concealing a small marble bench from general onlookers.

Cassandra slipped behind the bushes and approached the bench, fully intending to sit, but she stopped at the sight of dead ivy covering it like a blanket.

Her breath caught for a moment, her mind, already so full of the day’s events, felt overwhelmed, and her limbs felt like they were trembling with energy that needed an outlet but didn’t know where to find it. She dropped her arms to her sides, clenched her fists, lifted her hands to her hair, but tangled only her right one through her locks, spun around as if to leave, then turned back, advancing on the bench.

Cassandra found her fingers scratching at the browned vines, nails scraping across the marble, and in seconds it was clear. The leaves and stalks, brittle from the blight on the land of Whitestone, from the blight the Briarwoods had brought with them, fell to the ground with little more than a whisper.

She sat, dropping her head into her hands and releasing a shuddering breath, but stood up again a moment later, pacing across the uneven cobblestones that made up the small clearing amidst the berry bushes. Shaking out her hands, Cassandra tried to get rid of the tingling in her veins and under her skin, but it didn’t work. She stomped a foot on the ground, startling several birds from a nearby tree, then let out a shout of frustration, scaring off a few more.

Tears pricked at Cassandra’s eyes, not necessarily from sadness, but from a terribly familiar helpless frustration she hadn’t felt since the first few months after the Briarwoods arrived.

Here she was again, little Cassandra de Rolo, youngest of the bunch, with nothing useful to do, utterly powerless, thrown from one thing to another with abandon, the adults, the powers that be, discussing things beyond her limited understanding.

She collapsed on the bench once again, face in her hands, as the restless energy suddenly deserted her, leaving Cassandra with an emptiness in her chest like she hadn’t felt since her brother and his friends were trapped behind sheets of glass to be consumed by acid in the depths of Whitestone castle.

Not an hour earlier her brother had taken a sword to a supposed ally, revealing Seeker Asum to not only be an imposter, but one of the very dragons they were planning to kill. Asum- _Raishan_ had come to Cassandra’s bedchamber only earlier that morning, seeming his, no, _her_ usual self, and Cassandra hadn’t thought any the wiser.

“Well that is confusing, isn’t it?” Cassandra muttered to herself before a short laugh escaped her, though, logically, there was nothing at all amusing about the situation.

“Why must everything be more difficult than it seems?” she asked, looking up, past the shimmering barrier over the city to the cloud-spotted sky beyond. “Pelor above, I didn’t ask for this!”

Cassandra stared at the sky for a few more moments, before dropping her gaze to the ground. “I don’t want this,” she told her boots, another dry chuckle leaving her mouth before she could stop it.

There was nothing she could do.

None of her resources meant anything, even the advisors she had trusted were now being knocked out from under her feet. How were they supposed to guard against attacks not only from outside the barrier, but from within their own city, her home?

Her mind wanted to come up with strategies, with tactical placements of guards and contingency plans if the green dragon decided to turn on them, or ended up impersonating one of them, but she simple couldn’t. If Raishan was so powerful a dragon to disguise herself as Seeker Asum, and able to fake it well enough that even members of the Tal’dorei Council who had worked alongside him for _years_ were fooled, how would the guard be able to pick out an imposter among the still-unfamiliar faces of the refugees from Emon?

A rustling noise and the sound of footsteps drew Cassandra from her thoughts and she sighed, quickly drying her eyes and brushing remnants of dead leaves from her skirt so she would look presentable to whoever had sought her out.

She was surprised, then, to see not a guard coming around the bushes, but a bear, brown fur well-kept and eyes bright as he growled softly.

“How in Pelor’s name-“ Cassandra started, jumping to her feet, but the bear cut her off by ducking his head under her hand and nuzzling against her side, almost like a cat.

“Uhhh… Keyleth?” Cassandra asked, remembering the druid could shift into different animal forms.

The bear scoffed, as if he was offended.

Cassandra looked at the bear, bewildered. “You’re not Raishan, are you?” she asked, tension building in her gut until the bear made the most confused expression Cassandra had ever seen, on man or beast. And, from what little she knew of Raishan, the dragon wouldn’t lower herself to a common animal… Cassandra dismissed that idea.

“Then who are you?”

The bear tossed his head in what was unmistakably annoyance, and plopped into a sitting position, his head just as high as her own. ‘ _Can’t you tell?’_ he seemed to ask.

Cassandra contemplated for a moment, thinking back through memories, and remembered Winter’s Crest, just after the Briarwoods had been destroyed, when she had seen Vex’ahlia’s bear giving rides to children around the town square, and the name came to her in an instant.

“You’re Trinket!” she exclaimed, and Trinket rumbled happily, almost as if he was purring.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not some random bear from the woods, then. But I haven’t seen you around – where have you been?”

Trinket huffed, growled out some kind of answer that remained a mystery to Cassandra, then levered himself back onto all-fours and lumbered toward her, making her back up hurriedly.

“Woah!” she said, holding her hands out. “Give me a little space! What do you want?”

Trinket just continued forward, forcing Cassandra to move back and, after a few steps, run into the bench she’d been sitting on.

“Oh!”

She nearly overbalanced, but sat down and managed to catch herself instead of falling backward, and Trinket shook his shoulders, seeming pleased.

“Trinket-“ Cassandra began, but was interrupted when a giant bear tongue approached her face.

“Trinket!” she exclaimed instead, trying to push off the heavy bear. “Hey! Stop that!”

Trinket continued his licking, however, thoroughly bathing Cassandra’s face in bear slobber, pausing only when Cassandra managed to get a grip on his muzzle and push him away.

“Sweet Pelor! Let a woman breathe!”

Trinket whined, sliding his head under Cassandra’s arm even as she wiped her face with a sleeve. She looked down to see big brown eyes staring up at her, looking as apologetic as a bear could get, and she sighed.

“No, I’m not angry with you,” she assured the bear, patting his head and scratching behind his ears. Trinket sighed and leaned into the scratches, so Cassandra scratched harder, and Trinket made the purring noise again, his chest vibrating where his chest rested against her leg.

“I’m talking to a bear,” Cassandra realized as she ran her fingers through Trinket’s fur and found a new scratching spot. “I’m talking to a bear, just like it could answer back.”

Trinket moaned, his mouth opening in parody of a yawn, and he slid onto the ground, his legs sliding out from under him, his head and neck pushing against her leg. 

“Well, at least I know you don’t have any secrets to keep from me,” she said, the strange joy of companionship from the bear fading with the resurgence of the bitter feelings in her chest. “You’re a bear, how could you tell anyone anything?”

Trinket rumbled non-committally, licking Cassandra’s hand once as it trailed closer to his nose.

They sat together for a little while, Cassandra alternating between scratching Trinket and just running her fingers through his thick fur until her leg started feeling numb.

She went to stand, but Trinket protested with a grumble.

Cassandra patted his head.

“Just give me a moment and I’ll join you on the ground – don’t get all up in a fuss.”

Trinket huffed, but shifted over, and Cassandra sat near his head, the ground warmed from the large bear’s presence. He butted his head against her arm again, and she chuckled at his impatience.

“Have they been ignoring you, too?” she asked, resuming her previous rhythm. “Keeping you locked out, blind to what’s actually going on? You haven’t been with them during the last few meetings – have you been in town, in the forest?”

Trinket shifted, almost as if he shrugged, but by their position Cassandra couldn’t tell. Then she realized, once again, that she was talking to a bear.

“Oliver and Whitney would have a field day if they could see me now,” she said with a laugh, a not-entirely-unwelcome burn beginning behind her eyes. “I never minded helping out with plants, but the twins were the ones who would bring home “strays” from the city proper, only for mother to send them back to find the rightful owner of whatever dog or cat they had “rescued”. They would’ve loved a pet bear, I’m sure.”

Trinket huffed and nuzzled into her hand, which had stopped moving. Cassandra started scratching again, and the bear relaxed, beginning the rumble deep in his chest after a couple seconds.

“Vesper would be appalled, of course,” Cassandra continued, chuckling as she imagined the look on her eldest sister’s face if she would have seen anyone cuddling with a bear. Vesper was the most proper of all of them, and had felt uncomfortable around any four-legged animals since before Cassandra could remember.

Cassandra wondered if a younger Vesper would have minded Trinket or not, then realized there was no way she could find out. She considered, for a moment, asking Percy, but discounted the idea in a heartbeat. Until he was ready to play nice and let her in on what she needed to know she didn’t want to run to him for anything.

She sighed, pausing her scratching to bury her face in Trinket’s fur. It smelled of bear, which wasn’t an altogether unpleasant smell, but along with the scents of animal and musk there was something like the forest after rain as well as a hint of pine. It was cleaner than she expected a bear to smell, and Cassandra laughed into his fur, though the laugh turned into a sob partway through.

A curious noise came from below her and she felt Trinket lift his head.

“No, I’m fine, Trinket,” Cassandra lied, sitting back up and drying her wet cheeks on her sleeve.

Trinket growled and nosed her leg, then looked up at her with his wide eyes.

“Okay, I’m not fine. Happy?”

Trinket huffed and turned his head to nose her hand. Cassandra started running her fingers through his fur again and he hummed, letting his head fall back onto the ground.

“I just wish they’d let me know what’s going on instead of leaving me in the dark,” Cassandra said after a moment. “I’m doing the best I can, but they won’t let me know where they’re going, or what they’re doing – they talk of killing dragons and strategies and deceptions that are far beyond my capabilities, and here I am trying my best to govern a city, but they won’t even provide the most basic aid!”

Trinket grumbled sympathetically, and Cassandra sighed.

“It must be so much simpler to be a bear,” she said, shaking her head. “No governments or other people to worry about, just you… and Vex, I suppose, right?”

Trinket nodded, nuzzling her leg again, and Cassandra smiled, eyes brimming with tears at a flood of emotions she couldn’t list in full.

“You’re lucky,” she said, blinking to the sky before the tears fell. “So lucky.”

Trinket moaned, wiggling his nose as if to say _‘I know,’_ and Cassandra smiled through the veil over her eyes, just sitting in the silence for a long moment.

“You know, though, Vex is causing some trouble for me,” she said, shaking her head at Trinket’s look. “Don’t give me that. All of Vox Machina, but especially Vex and my brother, are simply more trouble than they’re worth sometimes.”

You know he made her a Baroness, right?” Cassandra continued, “Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt – so proper.”

Trinket rumbled, and if Cassandra could quantify the noise she would say he was nothing if not proud.

“Yes, and good for her of course,” Cassandra said, “but the problem comes in that she is Baroness of a burned-out house, of a plot that has nothing on it!”

Trinket patiently waited for her to continue, so Cassandra obliged.

“I’m not entirely sure why Percy even gave her the title – he keeps saying he’ll tell me, though he never does – unless there’s something going on between them?”

She aimed the last question at Trinket who didn’t answer verbally, but only hummed beneath her fingers.

“I would ask him, but he would probably give a non-answer anyway…”

Trinket made what was unmistakably a noise of affirmation, and Cassandra laughed.

“Good to know he does that to people other than myself, I suppose.”

Another growl.

“I just thought he’d changed, you know? Grown up in the time away from here, free and on his own, or with Vox Machina I suppose. But he’s still so secluded, so closed off, and he’s still terrible with responsibilities that should go to him.”

Trinket moaned in mournful assent and Cassandra shook her head.

“Do you know if there’s anything going on between them?” she asked the bear. “She seemed so torn up about him, and they’ve been rather close from what I’ve seen – even from the first time I saw them.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and remembered that night when Professor Anders had brought her into his study for the sole purpose of drawing Vox Machina into a trap. The intensity of the moment had swept her up, not recognizing the form of her brother among them because of his mask, but as she’d sat in the corner, Keyleth by her side, Cassandra had seen the black smoke take over her brother’s figure, obscuring him from view until Vex’ahlia had whispered in his ear, breaking him from his trance.

Trinket quirked his head to the side and growled, then laid his head on the ground once again. Cassandra, for all she could try and interpret the bear’s gestures and sounds, couldn’t determine a concrete answer from the noise, and patted his head.

“Well, if you have a chance, tell them to get together already,” Cassandra told the bear. “I think they’d be good for each other, and I’m certainly not around enough to let them know.”

Trinket stuck his nose out and up, nodding as best he could from their position and Cassandra laughed.

“Excellent – you do what you can from your end, and I’ll do what I can, I suppose.”

She thought hard for a moment, then a smile spread across her face.

“You know, Percy has said that Vex is more or less the treasurer for Vox Machina – and as a Baroness she should have some responsibility in Whitestone... What do you think about her being put in charge of Whitestone’s funds?”

Trinket nosed her hand, as if asking why not her, and she chuckled.

“I’ve got so much to do – I hardly have enough free time as it is, and I’d prefer to relax instead of thinking about money of all things,” she said, “Not to mention the fact I haven’t actually purchased anything for myself in over five years, so I doubt I’d be the best person to govern such a thing.”

Trinket nosed her leg once again, and Cassandra sighed, tapping on his nose with a finger.

“Perhaps, when this is all over I’ll ask her. We could have a proper ceremony then, appreciating her as a Baroness and Treasurer all in one.”

“Mrowwwrr,” Trinket hummed.

“It’s a plan then,” Cassandra said, nodding, “I’ll make a mental note of it.”

Raised voices from behind her made Cassandra turn, though her view of the front of the castle was blocked by the bushes around her.

“It seems my disappearance has been discovered,” Cassandra said, standing up.

A weight seemed to fall on her shoulders again as she moved away from Trinket’s warmth. Cassandra took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, quickly drying her eyes for the last time.  

“Thank you for your comfort, Trinket.”

Trinket groaned as he lifted himself to his feet, and as Cassandra bent to brush her legs free of dead leaves and ivy she got a face full of bear tongue and slobber.

“Trinket!”

Cassandra’s mask fell again for a split second, and she chuckled, wiping off her face, until the sound of running came upon their sheltered cove and Cassandra stood tall once again.

“Lady Cassandra!” Erin exclaimed, panting and red in the face as she ran around the side of the bushes, followed closely by one of the other guards, a younger-looking man who Cassandra recognized vaguely.

“Erin,” Cassandra greeted with a curt nod, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Worrying me? That’s a bit of an understatement, ma’am.”

Cassandra felt her face heat up and swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn’t meant to make trouble, especially not for her guards, who already had enough on their plates to deal with besides (and much more important than) a disappearing leader.

She looked down to her side, patting Trinket’s head. He tilted his gaze up to her and snorted softly.

“I do apologize,” Cassandra said, gesturing to the bear at her side. “But Lady Vex’ahlia asked me to retrieve her bear – it was of the utmost importance to her that she see him safe.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. The man behind her narrowed his gaze, turning his head skeptically, but said nothing.

Cassandra didn’t flinch, but waited for their reactions.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but if you need to go look for… for a bear ever again, the guard would be happy to assist you,” Erin offered, eyeing Trinket skeptically. “No reason to go alone in the future, so you know.”

Cassandra smiled graciously and wondered if the cold air was enough of an excuse for the blush she could feel rising on her cheeks.

“I will be sure to keep that in mind.”

“That’s all I could ask for, ma’am.”

They all stood there for several long, awkward seconds, until Cassandra pushed onward, taking a step toward the two guards as she coaxed Trinket along behind her.

“I really should get Trinket to Lady Vex’ahlia,” she explained, gesturing back up to the castle. “From Vox Machina’s plans they seem to be keen on leaving again quite soon and she would be heartbroken if Trinket were left behind.”

The man behind Erin snorted, and he coughed as Cassandra and Erin looked at him.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, his cheeks flushed as he coughed again, then cleared his throat. “A bit of a sneeze.”

“Quite alright,” Cassandra offered, “But, if I may ask, what is your name, sir? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

He looked stunned, glancing around as if she were asking someone else. Though, realizing she wasn’t, he cleared his throat again and straightened up.

“Kynan Leore, ma’am, of Emon.”

Cassandra eyed him critically, trying to remember why he seemed familiar, but she didn’t recognize his name, so simply nodded and held out her hand.

“Well met, Kynan.”

He bowed his head respectfully as he shook her hand once.

“Well met, Lady Cassandra.”

They dropped hands, and Cassandra straightened her skirts.

“Let’s return Trinket to his rightful owner, shall we?”

“Ah yes, let’s not keep her waiting,” Erin agreed, sighing softly before leading the way to the castle. She also led them through the halls, and all the way down to the tunnels leading to the Ziggurat, keeping a close eye on Cassandra all the way.

Cassandra and Trinket kept moving to the steps climbing up the pyramid-like structure, where Vox Machina were _still_ talking, though it looked like they might, possibly, finally, be winding down their discussions.

“Thank you again, Trinket,” Cassandra told the bear at her side as they ascended. He kept pace with her and nuzzled his head against her side, growling softly. “We should have another talk again when you all return.”

Trinket huffed and seemed to nod at her side, and Cassandra bit back a laugh as they crested the landing on which the council table was set up.

Had she been younger, she would have thought herself insane for speaking to a bear. But now, with all that was happening and the shitstorm she’d been thrown into, Cassandra couldn’t help but think Trinket was the sanest creature she’d encountered in a good long while.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> We hadn't seen Trinket out of the Raven's Slumber in so long, and when Episode 73 aired, just after I started writing this fic, I came up with the headcanon that Vex had allowed him to wander the gardens of Whitestone while they went down to the Ziggurat to plan or something. 
> 
> Generally, Cassandra just needs a lot more love, and a hug every so often. Also, Percy's vague "be prepared" was really not enough warning for "hey we might be fighting a dragon today..."  
> *sigh*
> 
> Anyway, many thanks to [summonerskies](http://summonerskies.tumblr.com) for the lovely art and prompt, and to all of you readers for taking a moment of your day to peruse this. ^_^
> 
> And, to all my US readers, Happy Thanksgiving! I'm so thankful for, basically, this show and this whole fandom - y'all are amazing. <3
> 
> Last of all, to see me recommend fanfics and scream about Cassandra de Rolo (or just Critical Role in general  
> 0 check out my writing tumblr: [dancerwrites](http://www.dancerwrites.tumblr.com), or my main blog: [dancer4813](http://www.dancer4813.tumblr.com).


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